Page 40 of Memory of Ashes

“Yes,” she said.

“If you knew what they were going to do, you’d be begging us to kill you,” he spat. “Better to be dead than to unleash that on the world.”

“Unleash what?” She moved closer.

Footsteps approached, and she quickly ducked out of the tent. His words haunted her. What were they going to do?

She returned to Casyl’s tent. Where else would she go?

She stood to the side of the tent, waiting as men filed out behind Ruven. Tharos’s voice drifted to her through the fabric. She moved slightly closer.

“What happened? I can tell by your face that something did.”

“I made a mistake,” Casyl replied.

There was a pause. She held still to listen. Some of the conversation was too quiet to hear, and then Tharos said solemnly, “What have you done? If he finds out, he’ll use this against you.”

“I couldn’t stop it,” Casyl said quietly.

“You should have tried harder!”

“I don’t think I can do this to her.” Casyl’s voice wavered.

She hurried away from the tent, her cheeks flushed. They were talking about her.

What couldn’t he do to her, and who would use this against him?

*

“There you are,” Ruven said, startling her.

When Casyl had walked out of the tent, she had run through the camp to avoid him. There was nowhere to go. She sat on a log near the central campfire, fury burning hot in her stomach.

“Yes, here I am. Where else would I be?” She pressed her lips together.

He shot her a sidelong glance. “Are you alright?”

She didn’t mean to take it out on him, but he was one of them.

She nodded.

No, she hadn’t been alright since her return to the mountain. The decision had become her greatest regret.

He perched on the log beside her and watched the two soldiers spar in silence.

He raised his brows briefly. “Fancy showing them how it’s done?”

She laughed.

“I’m serious. You look like you could use the release.”

“They’re soldiers,” she protested. “I don’t stand a chance.”

“I saw what you did last night; besides, you’ve trained with the best.” He winked.

Ruven walked over to the sparring soldiers as they finished. The big, beefy one had knocked his opponent to the floor. “Valaen, pass us one of those wooden swords.”

“I’m not sparring with you!”